


Waste

by nevver



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feelings, Mutual Pining, My First Fanfic, RDR2 did us dirty like that huh, but i'm a hoe for angst, i just want my faves to be happy, is it a happy ending idk you decide, our cowboahs deserved better™, sad cowboahs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 03:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevver/pseuds/nevver
Summary: "If she's happy, then I'm happy." he says.And he was. He was happy for you. He'd like to think that.(inspired by WASTE - Brockhampton.)





	Waste

**Author's Note:**

> hi!
> 
> i finished RDR2 weeks ago and i still have war flashbacks. Arthur is undeniably my number 1, but Javier needs some love in this fandom. also, this was inspired by waste - brockhampton. heard the song, thought of our boahs, and just had to write this. i ain't no writer but this is me trying my hand at it! i apologize for any errors, jumps in perspectives, etc. tbh i wasn't really sure where i was going with this fic, but well. here it is!
> 
> btw!!! some dialogue between Reader and Javier are in italics, that's just them speaking in Spanish.
> 
> that's all!  
> 

In the earlier days of the Van der Linde gang, it was just Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, John, and you. You were the newest addition, taken in just a day after finding John. Hosea and Arthur took it to themselves to teach you the basics, Hosea taught you how to read and write while Arthur taught you how to work the gun. Arthur took his role as mentor quite seriously, taking you out hunting and robbing whenever he was free. You’d both hit it off quite well, growing fond of each other with every minute spent. As time passed, you’d grown to see him as more of a suitor than a brother.

 

Arthur had made his feelings known, often leaving you small gifts by your tent or sending you a sweet look whenever seated by the campfire. Eventually, he’d admitted his feelings to you and well, the rest was history. Seeing each other exclusively seemed to have upped your already great game. You both had great dynamic, on and off the field. You and Arthur Morgan were unstoppable, robbing banks, trains, running heists, and the like.

 

“ _Partners in crime_ ,” you’d tell him.

 

“ _Partners in life_ ,” he’d say.

 

“ _Nothing could ever come between us_.” You’d thought proudly.

 

Or so you thought.

 

In the following years, the gang had grown bigger. New recruits meant more people, and more people meant a bigger family. It was difficult traveling with a group as big as yours, often having to set up camp every couple of weeks just to avoid the law.

 

One day, Dutch was heading to the edges of camp to smoke. He stumbled upon a man attempting to steal some of the camp’s chicken. Instead of putting a bullet between his eyes, he decided to take the poor man in. It was quite a struggle, Dutch and the man barely understanding each other. Dutch fed and clothed the man regardless, saying something along the lines of “ _feelin’ for his poor soul_ ” and whatnot.

 

When Dutch introduced the newcomer, the gang watched with interest as the stranger spoke a language that mostly came out as garbled nonsense to them. He spoke quickly, rapidly, though his tone held neutrality. You laughed and pointed out to Dutch that the man was speaking in Spanish. When Dutch looked at you inquisitively, you told him that you knew a bit of the language from some time spent in Mexico years ago. You then offered to translate for the man.

 

“ _My name is Javier Escuella and_ _I left Mexico not so long ago._ ” He says. You notice how he tightens his grip on the metal canister in his hands as he begins to tell his story.

 

He tells you that he was a Mexican revolutionary who fought for freedom against a tyrannical and corrupt government. The only reason why he was all the way in America was because he fled his country in fear that his loved ones would be in danger if he stayed any longer. This sparks the interest of Dutch, who then goes on an entire spiel about his beliefs – “ _freedom, loyalty, family_ ” something like that. Translating to Javier, this seems to have lit a fire in him as he runs to Dutch, shaking his hands with renewed fervor. He utters a thousand thanks, but Dutch is just about confused.

 

“I think he likes you, Dutch,” you joke. Dutch rolls his eyes at you, a smile on his face.

 

Later that night, you tell Javier that Dutch and Hosea had assigned you to be his mentor. You were to help him learn some English, reading and writing, and generally just help him adjust to camp life. He accepts it thankfully, offering to repay you in due time.

 

Being Javier’s mentor meant more time away from Arthur and more time with Javier. Initially, Arthur didn’t mind. He’d understood what Javier’s position was like. He’d been in the same place some years ago when a younger Dutch and Hosea had found him lost and alone. In short, he felt for Javier's predicament.

 

But as time passed, Arthur couldn’t deny the venomous feeling of doubt that’d crawl up his spine whenever he’d glance over and see you and Javier seated by the campfire, sharing a laugh or reading a book or whatever. He’d spent a lot of days, running on weeks, without his _partner in crime_ and he was starting feel the distance between you both. You were so _close_ yet so _far away_ from him, and he hated it. But he held his ground, thinking that you were just Javier’s mentor and he was just a student learning the reigns, nothing more.

 

Months later, Javier had finally adjusted to his new life. He could speak English properly, hold a conversation, though still stumbled over some words. You and Javier did a lot of bounty hunting together. He’d gotten his own share of the pay, which he saved up to spend on new clothes. He was very self-conscious too, often kept his hair tied up and facial hair trimmed as neatly as camp life would let him. He’d even warmed up to the gang. He played guitar and sang them songs from his country while they all gathered ‘round the fire.

 

Simply put, Javier Escuella was a new man.

 

You were proud of him. Javier had done so much in just a span of months. You were happy for him, he’d gone a long way. However, you couldn’t deny the odd feeling that you’d get whenever you’d catch yourself staring a bit longer at the olive-skinned man. There was an odd feeling that grew somewhere in your chest whenever you’d catch him staring at you while he was doing some camp chores. Sometimes, you’d feel it whenever you heard him strum his guitar while he sat by himself. You became conflicted with these new, unfamiliar feelings that grew inside you, tearing you apart at times when you gave it too much thought.

 

Even though your role as Javier's mentor was just about finished, he still stuck by you. Perhaps out of habit or respect, or maybe he was just comfortable around you. You didn't mind, however. You welcomed the company. What you didn't welcome were these feelings that rose from something as small as a glance thrown your way from Javier. He made you  _feel_ a certain way. The thing is, he didn't even have to try.

 

On quiet nights, while the rest of camp was out asleep, you’d spend hours awake, deep in thought. This was another of those nights.

 

As your feelings grew, so did your indecisiveness. All your life, you’d always been set on Arthur. Hell, you loved him, you loved Arthur Morgan with all your soul. “ _Partners in crime_ ,” “ _Partners in life_ ,” the words echoed in your mind, almost mocking you for your current predicament. You’d scoffed at the memory. The time spent with Javier did not make it any easy for you. You were just so _confused_.

 

On one hand, you had Arthur, love of your life, moon to your stars. On the other, you had Javier, the suave student you’d mentored for months. You weren’t so sure how to describe him. You wouldn’t deny that he was handsome in his own way, he was always dressed and was definitely more presentable than most in the gang. He had a way with words too, especially when he switched to his native tongue. And although his accent wasn’t as thick as it was when you found him, he still had the girls swoonin’. You, yourself a victim to it.

 

What made it more conflicting was that you and Javier had grown close in the time that’s passed. Everyone with eyes could see that. Javier always preferred to go on missions with you, even if it was as simple as debt collecting or going to town for a supply run. You noticed that he was much more relaxed, more comfortable, and much more open whenever he was with you. You’d think it was due to your shared knowledge of the Spanish language. He had even grown touchier too, often keeping a hand at the small of your back when walking together or at the rare occasion, would let his hand linger a while longer on your shoulder. You didn’t mind, thinking instead he was just being a gentleman. _Javier being Javier_ , you’d think.

 

In the time spent together, you couldn’t help but think you were starting to _like_ him. Like him a little bit more than a mentor does her student. It felt _very_ wrong, no- you _knew_ it was wrong. You already had Arthur, why bother with another? It wasn’t like Arthur wasn’t giving you attention. In fact, it was the complete opposite.

 

You knew you’d spent more time with Javier than you did with Arthur. You were also aware of the growing distance between you two. You’d mentally scold yourself, thinking that it was Arthur who went cold first, not you. You’d tell yourself, Arthur knew your time would be split between him and Javier. He knew you had a job as Javier’s mentor, so why was he being so cold on you? You couldn’t tell if it was from your own denial or your anger as to why your reasoning had gone sour like that.

 

Shaking the thought away, you turn on your side and force your eyes shut, eventually falling into some much needed sleep.

 

After that little internal battle you had in your head, you took some time away from Javier to be around camp more. You strayed away from missions, choosing to do camp chores instead. It was mostly boring. You endured Ms. Grimshaw's complaining, Mr. Pearson's whining, Karen's gossiping, and so on. Every now and then, Micah or Bill would rile someone up which would result in someone knocking 'em square in the jaw. _Serves 'em right_ , you think. Other than that, camp chores were purely uneventful.

 

One night, you were charged with guard duty. You noticed that Arthur would often return in the dead of night. He didn’t so much as send you a glance during camp interactions either. You tried to listen in on his conversations with just about anyone. He still sounded the same, with that grumpy tone he always had but now, it held a bit of coldness to it. He felt so far away from you, so distant.

 

You also noticed that he acted alone now, choosing only to speak to Dutch or Hosea when he felt he needed. He dodged other interactions with the gang, save for John, Abigail, and Jack. He did missions alone, went to town alone, did things alone. You hated it. His words from days long gone seemed to haunt you, even mock you. “ _Partners in crime,” “Partners in life._ ” His faint voice would echo somewhere in the recesses of your mind.

 

With everything going on, you never bothered to reach out to him. You were too stuck in your own thoughts and feelings. All the confusion and conflict had gotten to you. But you knew deep down, it was your own guilt eating away at you. The guilt for harboring such feelings, affections for a man that wasn't your lover. The growing affections you had for Javier had bloomed in the time that you and Arthur had slowly drifted apart. The fact that you didn’t bother to let those affections die down? That you let Arthur go just like that? Well, that’s on you, and you knew it.

 

You felt bad for being like this. You felt even worse for Arthur. He was the receiving end of your indecisiveness. He didn’t deserve this petty, ridiculous behavior you were giving him. He deserved a love so pure, so kind, one that you knew you could not give him as your affections were elsewhere. You knew it, maybe even he knew it. It’d make sense, maybe that’s why he’d grown cold towards you.

 

Then the realization had struck you. You let out a sigh. You finally knew where you stood with Arthur and what you saw with Javier.

 

It takes you by surprise when one day, the burly man you once called your lover sat down next to you by the fire. He had just returned from God knows where, and you were finally relieved of guard duty. Everyone else was pretty much asleep, save for you two.

 

“We should talk,” his gruff voice echoes amidst the cackling of the fire.

 

You sat up a bit, trying to switch to a more comfortable position. Arthur did the same, letting out an exhale in the process.

 

“I… I ain’t happy anymore, (Y/N). I ain’t been in a while now.”

 

He pauses for a bit. You feel your breath still. You know where this is heading.

 

“Months have passed, (Y/N). It’s.. It’s just not the same anymore.”

 

You fix your gaze at the fire, a tight feeling coils in your chest. He sighs.

 

“I think it’s best we end this.”

 

You sat in silence, contemplating what to say. Your gaze falters when Arthur speaks again, voice barely above a whisper.

 

“It was always Javier.”

 

Your breathing halts for a second. It was as if you were caught.

 

You didn’t know what to say, Arthur had said the words himself.

 

_It was always Javier_. The words burned, they struck you. You knew it was true.

 

“I could see how he looked at you,” he said.

 

“That was how _I_ looked at you.”

 

He softly admits, eyes staring up at the heavens. You turn to face him, your chest feeling heavy with guilt.

 

You never uttered a word. You didn’t deny it. That was enough for him. It was much obvious to begin with, even he had seen it.

 

It was Javier.

 

You chose him.

 

You loved him.

 

That night, Arthur leaves without so much as a goodbye. You remained like that for a while, frozen in deep contemplation. Tears fell down your face but not a single sob or hiccup left your lips. The hollow feeling in your chest was deep, agonizingly so. You loved Arthur, you really did, but why did your own heart betray him? Why did it choose Javier? Arthur was nothing but good, kind, and honest… So many questions raced through your mind.

 

You left for bed.

 

The following days were the same. Camp ran itself the way it usually does. You noticed that Arthur hadn’t returned for about 5 days now. You had the urge to ask around, but you didn’t really feel like interacting with anyone. You didn't know how but you knew news travelled fast in your little band of outlaws. Many came to comfort you the following day of your falling out with Arthur. Though they all meant well, you felt the complete opposite. You were annoyed, everyone treated you as if heartbreak was going to be the death of you. So instead of hanging around camp, you walked away until you reached the edge of camp.

 

You sat yourself down, leaning on a log. You were by the ridge overlooking the Dakota River. “Finally, some peace and quiet,” you thought. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You could hear the hummingbirds singing their tune, the rush of the river, the rustling of trees. It was relaxing. _Almost_.

 

The snap of a twig on your right caused you to immediately grab your revolver and aim it at the intruder.

 

_“¡Ay, chica!_ Relax, it’s just me,”

 

The intruder reveals himself to be Javier. He holds up his hands, admitting defeat. You lower your weapon with a sigh, returning to your earlier position.

 

When Javier sees you relax, he sits down on the same log you were leaning on, making sure to keep a respectable distance between you two.

 

“Hey,” he greets. You nod in response.

 

“You okay?”

 

He leans on his knees, trying to get a look at your face, which was shielded by your hat.

 

“I’m gettin’ there,” you answer, not really expecting to sound so harsh. “Why’d you ask?”

 

Javier doesn’t flinch at your tone.

 

“Just checking on you,” he says.

 

You both sat in silence.

 

Javier is the first to speak.

 

“You know, I never got to thank you. For everything. You’re a great teacher,” he says, staring at the vast wilderness before him.

 

“You’re a good student,” you say simply, “…And you’re welcome.”

 

Javier smiles at this then leans back a bit.

 

“You were always kind to me. I’m grateful, (Y/N).”

 

When you don’t answer, he sighs

 

“Are you sure you’re alright? You can talk to me if you want.”

 

Suddenly, you’re taken back to a time when you, yourself, had said the same thing to a lonely Javier, who once was in your current position.

 

He was sitting down at his own little campfire, watching the gang celebrate and cheer. He was still new and shy around the camp, not exactly too comfortable around them.

 

“ _Hi Javier,”_ you greet in Spanish, and he nods to you as you joined him by the fire.

 

“ _You alright? You can talk to me if you feel like it.”_ You say, offering him a bottle of beer. He doesn’t answer but he does take the bottle from you.

 

“ _If you want to talk shit about one of them, Bill or Micah or something, you can come to me and we can do just that. We can talk in Spanish too. That way, no one can understand us_.” You laugh, sipping your beer a bit, unaware that Javier had given you a look.

 

And not just any look, it was a look of longing.

 

He liked you. You were kind and gentle to him. You defended him when Bill or Micah talked shit about him. You taught him the ropes around camp. Hell, you were teaching him a new language! You were so kind, it hurt him knowing that you couldn’t be his. He knew you were Arthur’s girl, everyone knew that. He held respect for the man and he wasn’t the type to just take you away from him like that. He didn’t want to be _that_ guy.

 

Javier had experience with men of that kind, the type who tried to steal other people’s women, particularly his, and well, he will say this. He did not like it one damn bit. He made it obvious when he put a bullet in the man’s head. That man just so happens to be one of the highest ranking military officials in the country and well… That was the exact reason why Javier Escuella fled Mexico. Now, look where that got him.

 

Snapping back into reality, Javier swore to lock away those feelings for you. Keep everything strictly professional between you two. You were his mentor, and he was your protégé. It just… it couldn’t happen. You’d already done so much for him, that alone made him happy. _That would be enough_ , he thought. _No, that_ should _be enough_.

 

Spending most of your time together didn’t make it any easier for you or Javier. There were times when he just wanted to whisk you away and ride off to Mexico, never looking back. He won’t deny it, he’s considered it sometimes. He wondered if you felt the same, if he had a chance with you, if you’d even have him. He wondered what it would be like to call you his. But he’d push those thoughts away. _She’s_ _Arthur’s girl_ , his conscience would scold him.

 

But in the time that’s passed, Javier noticed how different the atmosphere was whenever you and Arthur were in the same space. There was a tension of sorts, a heat, some sort of uneasiness surrounded you both. It wasn’t exactly suffocating but it was there. He was pretty sure everyone else at camp felt it.

 

One day, Javier overheard Karen and Mary-Beth talking about you and Arthur. He felt horrible for feeling a tad bit happy at the news. Apparently, you and Arthur were falling out. Why? He wasn’t so sure. A voice in his head was telling him this was his chance to steal you away, but his conscience said otherwise.

 

He didn’t want to ask you either, you were good at keeping your feelings at bay, locking it behind a façade you held so professionally, as if you’d been doing it for ages. But then again, living your entire life with a band of outlaws, well, it’s only fitting, he thinks. You held yourself together a bit better than most, another of the countless other things he respects about you. So when he heard muffled crying along the edges of camp at the wee hours of night, he knew he had to intervene somehow.

 

Which leads us to the present.

 

“ _Are you sure you’re alright?_ ”

 

Javier’s words echo, which catches your attention.

 

You spaced out but the words click in your head, and as you face him, tears stream down your face. You sobbed silently, wiping them away with your sleeve. Javier moves closer to you, then moves to his knees to hold you in an embrace. He shushes you, tells you you’re alright.

 

Through muffled sobs, you tell Javier that you and Arthur had ended things. You didn’t tell him why, and he didn’t bother to ask.

 

For the first time in months, this was the first he has seen you so vulnerable and broken. In his mind, you were always the pillar of strength that he longed to just be like. You were always so good at keeping it together, even when times were rough. But this? This was different.

 

He continued to rub circles on your back, an attempt to comfort you.

 

“It hurts, Javi,” you whimper, the weight of your heartbreak broke forth like a dam.

 

“H-he just upped and gone like that, like t-the years together were nothing.” You cried into his dress shirt, clutching it for dear life.

 

“I don’t think so, _chica_. I’m sure Arthur loved you plenty, everyone in camp saw that.” He whispers, loosening his grip on you so you could wipe your tears.

 

“That he did, Javi. That he did. I just… I don’t know. It all went to shit anyway.”

 

You pause to gather yourself. Javier hands you his kerchief and you wipe your tears with it.

 

“I loved him with all my being, Javi. I don’t understand He- he left me anyway,”

 

At this, Javier rocks you both a little, humming an unfamiliar tune in the process.

 

“If you need to cry your heart out, you do just that, _chica_.” He whispers.

 

You cry into his sleeve, pulling him a bit closer.

 

Once your tears had dried up, you thanked Javier and left for bed. He offered to take over your guard shift so you could sleep a bit more soundly tonight, and you accepted without hesitation.

 

Your encounter with Javier had helped lighten the load a little. Sure, wallowing in self-pity seemed like the only choice you had. But you had a good friend like Javier, who was willing to be your shoulder to cry on. He was by your side every second of the way. Besides, you didn’t think of yourself as the heartbroken type who dragged their emotional baggage around with them. You were better than this.

 

And so life moved on. You did the same.

 

The first few days were tough. You felt so alone despite having all these good people around you. You lost your appetite, became irritable, and was just downright depressed. It was hard being _alone_. Sure, the Van der Linde gang was around, but you hated being coddled, treated like a child. You weren’t even the youngest in the gang and yet here you were being treated like a damn child! Even Jack had more dignity, for Christ's sake! It was just near frustrating, but you knew that this was just them looking out for you, being thoughtful.

 

And you weren’t alone, per se. Aside from the gang, you had Javier, who was basically your shadow. No matter what time of day, he always found himself by your side. He kept a respectable distance like usual, but he continued to stand by you in all this. He didn’t hover over you the way Hosea would or how Tilly or Mary-Beth or one of the girls would. He was just kind of there, like a spirit watching over you. It was odd in a comforting way. You suppose this was his way of looking out for you, just in case you decide to do something ridiculous. _My guardian angel_ , you’d joke. Javier would roll his eyes playfully at this.

 

In the process of moving on, you got sick of the whole lovesick, mopey, kicked puppy, persona you’d grown accustomed to. One day, you just woke up with a better mood and a stubborn determination to _move the fuck on_. You busied yourself, both in and out camp. You took bounty hunting jobs across the states, riding from New Hanover to Lemoyne, returning to camp a little over a week.

 

Dutch didn’t complain, you were reeling in good money for the camp, which of course meant more food, provisions, ammunition, and more money. This got Ms. Grimshaw off your back for a while too. Arthur didn’t seem to mind either, at least that’s what you assumed whenever you saw him in passing.

 

He would return just about the same time as you, gone on weeks’ end, and sometimes, even longer. You suspected he started seeing someone new. You didn’t dwell on the idea, crushing the embers that seemed to have lit a fire of jealousy at the thought of it.

 

Once back at camp, you’d resume your usual chores. Supply runs and whatnot. Dutch’s speeches kept the gang going, something about a plan he had in mind but would not tell in detail. “ _Just have_ _some goddamn faith_ ,” he’d say. Well, whatever Dutch’s plan was, you were just glad to be back with everyone, back with your family.

 

The drinking and celebrating had commenced, in light of your return from a week long’s absence. Everyone had gathered around the fire, drinking a bit more than usual, sharing stories, just having fun. In the corner of your eye, you saw Arthur seated at the end of the log you were occupying. You never once spoke to him, and he to you. Even after downing two bottle’s worth of liquid confidence aka alcohol, you never budged, never talked to him.

  

Dutch, being Dutch, knew what was up. He knew things didn’t work out between you two. He knew better than to put you and Arthur in the same space. It caused a tension in the air, one that was slightly suffocating if you stayed too long. The following day after the celebration, the man with a plan decided to put you and your former lover on separate missions, making sure that the timing of missions would overlap and that you wouldn’t have to face each other upon returning to camp. Dutch chose to pair you with Javier, since he knew Javier trusted you, and well, you two just had good dynamic on the field.

 

You didn’t mind.

 

Javier, sure as hell, didn’t mind.

 

Keeping yourself busy was the answer, it would seem. Within two months, you were back to your old self. You smiled, laughed, and were definitely more alive. You'd even fully moved on from Arthur, something you thought you’d never accomplish. Well at least not in a long time.

 

You no longer avoided him like the plague. You laugh at it, the thought of you going in the opposite direction once you’d spot Arthur in camp. You no longer avoided eye contact either. You’d greet him, strike a conversation if you felt like. If anything, you were a new person. You had a much more confident and stronger spirit, something akin to pride in the way you held yourself.

 

Hell, you were at your prime. You had just raided four different banks in four separate states in a striking span of one week, a new record you’d set in camp. Of course, you did this with the help of your one and only trusted friend and confidante, Javier.

 

And while Arthur was slightly jealous hearing news that one of your biggest robberies of all time was aided by none other than Javier Escuella, well, it took everything in him to avoid causing a damn scene. _It was supposed to be us against the world, (Y/N),_ he’d thought. He scolded himself right after, pushing the thought aside. _If she’s happy, then I’m happy._ And he was. He was happy for you. He’d like to think he was.

 

He was glad that you’d gotten up and moved on with your life. You were a whole new person, no longer the sulking mess he left months back. Deep inside, he knew that the embers of his love were still there. No matter how hard he’d try to let it crumble, let it die out, it was still there. He knew he still loved you but he also knew you no longer had eyes for him, or maybe for anyone. You were satisfied with yourself, where you were now. Your running track record alone had said it. So in a similar fashion to Javier, he kept his feelings aside. But unlike Javier, Arthur chose to watch from afar and let you be who the person you wanted to be.

 

He’d thought of it at times, he won’t deny it. He wanted to be part of your life again. But he also knew that if he did, he’d just hold you down and you’d crawl back into that slump of sadness. _This is fine,_ he says. _She’s happy, I’m happy, this is fine._ He says, though not fully convinced by his own words.

 

It was late and most of camp had gone and called it a night. Arthur came back from another of Dutch’s missions. It comes as no surprise to him when sees you huddled up next to Javier by the fire. He was about to mind his business and head straight to his tent but your conversation caught his attention.

 

“You alright, _chica_?” Javier asks, taking a sip from his drink.

 

“Sure, doin’ better than ever, I’d say,” you stretch, leaning back a bit.

 

You both share the silence for a while and Javier is the first to break it.

 

“You know, I never got to tell you this but I’m really proud of you, (Y/N).” He pauses. “A lot’s happened, but you? You held your ground. Not everyone can do that.”

 

Your silence begs him to continue, and that he does.

 

“I guess that’s why I’ve always thought you were amazing.” His voice softens as he says this.

 

“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were beautiful. You reminded of those desert flowers that bloomed in the middle of a barren, boring, field of cactus. You were one of a kind, I could tell.”

 

“You always had this look in your eye too, like you were determined, y’know, set on what you wanted. And you were so kind too. You taught me how to speak English! I know it wasn’t easy,” he chuckles at this.

 

“But you’re a big part of my life now.”

 

He admits quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. You turn to face him, your own gaze softening at his honesty as he continues.

 

“I’ve always struggled with my feelings. After everything that went down in Mexico, I just- it’s hard, y’know? I thought I’d forget that feeling but then I met you and you were so kind to me and I was happy, I-“ he takes a deep breath.

 

 “I just wanted that. I wanted that feeling to stay. Happiness. Then I realized… I wanted _to be with you_.”

 

He looks up at the night sky as he says this, you hold him in your gaze.

 

“But I knew you were _his_ girl and I didn’t want to come between that. I hated it though, seeing you so down and broken at the thought of him. I’d always think to myself you deserved so much better, that you deserved the world. Then I’d think, _mierda_ , could _I_ even give you that? When it was _you_ who had given me so much?” He lets out a dry laugh.

 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he turns to face you, his coffee-colored eyes piercing your own (e/c) ones.

 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that… _I’m in love with you, (Y/N)._ I have been, for a long time now.” He says quietly, yet his eyes held so much emotion.

 

You were awestruck, the words having died down your throat. You watched in stunned silence as the shadows of the flames danced over his face. How the fire had seemingly warmed his features. How his eyes were so warm and inviting, how you felt you could drown in them if you stared any longer. You didn’t realize that you had reached out to him, brushing away the stray strands of hairs that shaped his face. He’d close his eyes and let out a shaky breath, leaning into your touch.

 

“Javi,” your voice was so soft, just barely above a whisper.

 

“I’ve… I’ve always wanted to say it but I could never find the words nor the strength.”

 

You say, trailing a delicate finger over his scars, tracing each one of them. The one on is eyebrow, the one on his cheek, then the one on his neck.

 

“I know in my heart that I loved Arthur. I truly did. For the longest time, I did. But he knew it, and I knew it too. I guess I was just denying it for a while now,” You pause, staring at his lips, your palm on his cheek.

 

“Even though I loved Arthur, I just knew that my heart had chosen you.” You exhale, then shift your gaze to his eyes.

 

“It was always Javier, he would say. When I heard that, I didn’t believe it one bit. I was stubborn. But... All this time, it really was _you_ , Javi.” You let out a small laugh.

 

“Even Arthur knew that. It was so obvious to him and everyone else. Everyone else but me.”

 

You stare into his eyes a while longer.

 

“I love you too, Javier.”

 

With that, Javier takes your chin and crashes his lips down yours. The kiss was slow yet full of emotion, full of passion. You reached out to wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

 

Arthur shifts his gaze, choosing to look at the side.

 

While the exchange of love and affections was all great, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of embarrassment, anger, and jealousy. He was angry at himself for bothering to watch the whole damn thing. Mildly embarrassed at the fact that he’d stumbled over a private moment, hell, it was a confession of love. And he most definitely hated that feeling of jealousy that had crept at him with every passing second, but chose to push it aside one more time.

 

You were happy. He saw that.

 

It was much evident now that Javier, much as yourself, had admitted your feelings for each other.

 

Arthur lowers his gaze, a pained smile on his lips as he makes his way back to his tent.

 

Just knowing that you were happy, truly happy, was enough for him. He reminds himself this before he dozes off into a dreamless sleep.

 

Months later.

 

The Van der Linde gang was celebrating another robbery gone right. The total take was higher than expected and everyone was just happy. They were one step closer to achieving Dutch’s plan! Whatever it was… No one was really sure these days, but they didn’t want to be the receiving end of one of Dutch’s lectures.

 

Everyone was gathered around the fire, even the alleged (you weren’t convinced he was one) O’Driscoll boy Kieran had joined in. It was a jolly old feast, everyone was singing, drunk, and happy. Even Micah wasn’t being much of an asshole tonight.

 

Javier had taken to playing guitar for the gang, belting out some classics. You were seated in front of him. To your left sat John and to your right was Charles. Both men, much like everyone else, was at the tipping point of intoxication. You slurred your words, sharing a laugh with John.

 

“John, you’re my brother and all. But you really _,_ really, and I mean _really,_ have to learn how to swim! How’re you gonna protect ‘yer family, huh! When even the near damn sight of water knocks the life outta ya,” you giggle as John weakly slaps your back.

 

“Oh, pipe down, will you! What’s swimming even got to do with protecting my family, you crazy hag!” He slurs back.

 

Javier watches the exchange while strumming out a little tune, a smile on his lips. He always joked that your drunk self was your “authentic” self. And he was right. You were definitely more talkative, a tad bit touchier than usual, but hey, he wasn’t complaining.

 

While Javier was watching your and John’s ridiculous exchange on his “ _lack of water experience_ ,” Arthur was watching you too.

 

He always liked this side of you, carefree, wild, untamed. The feeling of longing, jealousy, yearning- hell, he couldn’t tell anymore what it was, had crept up on him again and he mentally chastised himself. “ _If she’s happy, I’m happy_ ,” he repeated it like a mantra.

 

Arthur breaks away from his thoughts when he sees you getting up, harshly pushing a drunk John to the side, and making your way to Javier. Javier sees this and puts his guitar aside, only for you to drop down on his lap. This catches the attention of many, causing most of the gang to let out some wolf whistles and hollers. You shush them with a gentle “ _shut up, hijo de putas!”_  to which the gang laughs and resumes their singing, joking, and drinking.

 

Javier wrapped his arms around you, causing you to relax into his touch.

 

“ _Javier, have I ever told you that your eyes… Your eyes are.. Like pools, so deep, I’d drown.”_ You pause abruptly, then giggle. “ _Same way I’d drown John ‘cause he’s an idiot!”_ You and Javier laugh, you could feel the tremors of his laugh as he’d embrace you tighter.

 

“ _Ay mi amor, you’re perfect.”_

He laughs then sighs, kissing the top of your head.

 

“ _Javier Escuella, I love you.”_

Before even being able to respond, you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in, capturing his lips in a kiss. The kiss becomes heated as you deepen it, feeling his tongue dance with your own. You feel Javier’s hands roam under your top, tracing the curves of your hips.

 

As Arthur watches once more from afar, he notices that time seemed to slow down. Everything else melted away into a blur and now, it was just you, Javier and, him.

 

He could feel the painful tug at his heart strings. He knew if he looked any longer, he’d just break. Seeing you happy, made him happy. But seeing you with someone new? That was just something else entirely.

 

He recalls a time when it was once him in Javier’s place.

 

You and him sharing a kiss just as passionate, feeling the want, the need, all the love, and all the desire in one kiss.

 

He recalls when it was him trailing his fingers over your skin. The late nights shared together. Staying in his tent and sleeping in ‘til late noon.

 

Then Arthur blinks his eyes, breaking away from his drunken reverie. Memories of the past replaced with the present, the reality before him.

 

It wasn’t you and Arthur anymore. There wasn’t a you and Arthur anymore.

 

Just (Y/N) and Javier.

 

Arthur takes a swig of whiskey, downing just about enough to help numb that aching pain in the hollow of his chest.

 

Arthur walks away, far from the noise of the camp.

 

“ _If she’s happy, then I’m happy.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for droppin' by, fellers. /tips hat/


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